


after party tricks (and treats)

by pretense



Series: awkward crushing [1]
Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Frotting, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Small tiny bit of blood sucking bec vamp!vil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretense/pseuds/pretense
Summary: Painted lips ghost over cool skin as Vil whispers, “Jealousy doesn't suit you, Azul. I much prefer your greed.”The kiss is fleeting, feather-light. Vil reclines further on the gurney, a very clear invitation for Azul to make his move.
Relationships: Azul Ashengrotto/Vil Schoenheit, background Leona/Vil, implied Others/Vil
Series: awkward crushing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019737
Kudos: 23





	after party tricks (and treats)

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted them frickfracking but azulvil said take what u get :P  
> this is me giving thanks to both of their thirst trap halloween cards for coming home
> 
> same timeline as the [two queens fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059002), but like, way before that. these are the happy days

Vil scans the festivities from his perch, high on the pirate ship’s quarterdeck. The hour is getting late but the student population is still caught in the thrills of today’s success; with the announcement that tomorrow’s classes are suspended, it’s very likely that they intend to party until dawn. A well-deserved celebration, in Vil’s opinion. Even the faculty have joined in, well, at least Mr. S and Mr. Vargas have from what he can see, toasting plastic tankards of a suspect brew with the varsity athletes. 

His phone has been on silent mode all this time. Vil is sure that it’s going to blow up with notifications and tag alerts as soon as he opens it. There were already a thousand ‘reactions’ on his mirror maze post when he uploaded a selfie at the end of the parade earlier but he’ll sort through them tomorrow. Better yet, he’ll get his agent to do it. Vil doesn’t realize he’s gone idle until a polite cough calls for his attention.

Jade has come up from his post. They’re not _exactly_ required to stay in place after the parade’s conclusion -- Cater has been flitting about since the after-party started, even bringing his Heartslabyul dormmates up on the deck for group photos -- but Vil stayed on his perch on principle. If people presumed he just liked the view, they wouldn’t be totally wrong. But now Jade has gotten that look in his unnervingly heterochromatic eyes and Vil mentally braces himself.

“Still keeping yourself above the masses?” Jade begins with a query, a tilt of the head meant to appear non-threatening. “Your adoring fans must be missing you.”

“They can adore me from afar,” Vil replies.

“Hm. You sure like holding others to your own standard.”

“I don’t find anything wrong with that.”

“Of course, of course.” Jade’s words are placating but his gaze is sharp, deadly like those infernal teeth of his. “But then you must realize, those longing looks from your fans down below… you’re doing it, too.”

A pinch mars Vil’s perfect mask. “What?”

“You’ve been on the prowl all night,” Jade intones. “I daresay it’s about time for you to pounce.”

Vil purses his mouth tightly, nevermind the prosthetic fangs digging into his bottom lip when the alternative is to leave it hanging open. Quite the unflattering look for a vampire. Octavinelle’s vice-prefect is truly something else. “I haven’t selected my prey just yet,” comes Vil’s measured reply but Jade has even anticipated that evasive answer.

“I think you have.” Jade smiles, disarming. “The harness is a nice touch, no?” Nimble fingers dip just a little into his unbuttoned maxi shirt, leading Vil’s gaze to the leather straps across his chest. The Octavinelle dorm costume is quite inspired this year.

“It is,” Vil admits.

“Better make your move, then,” Jade advises, his golden eye gleaming. “I’ve heardtell plenty of students are looking forward to, ah, taking advantage of this feature.”

Vil arches a brow.

A hint of teeth shows in Jade’s smile. “Myself included.”

“Slimy up there finally dethroned you, huh?”

Vil finds Leona leaning against the side of the ship, hidden in its shadow, away from the festivities. “I simply tired of the view,” Vil replies before firing back. “I thought you already left. After parties like this being… not your thing.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “The music isn’t crap, and I can order the first years to get me drinks, so…”

“So?” Vil stands before him. 

“Figured if I stayed long enough, I can get my own private after party going,” Leona grins, his canines plated gold to keep with his dorm’s buccaneering theme.

Fangs glint in Vil’s responding smile, his gloved hand cupping Leona’s face, thumb swiping over his bottom lip in a bid to open that carnivorous mouth wider. “Playing the long game now, are we?”

“Says the perpetual tease,” Leona bites out, and then, just as quickly, he pulls Vil to him. Arms around the slim waist, teeth grazing over the racing pulse, Leona breathes in the overripe scent of apples. “You know the captain’s quarters is fully outfitted in this ship.”

“Is it now?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

“Yes, I daresay it’d be best for you both to relocate to more private spaces,” a third voice joins them. Azul affects an unimpressed look, hand on his hip as he finds his fellow prefects being all up in each other’s space.

“Hello, Azul,” Vil says, extracting himself from a disgruntled Leona.

“Pardon my interruption,” Azul starts but Vil is quick to shush him. 

“No, no, I asked Jade to call you over.”

“And what for?” Azul’s gaze turns suspicious, looking between Vil and Leona.

“I ain’t fucking him,” Leona states without preamble, and Azul goes from suspicious to scandalized in a blink. “I don’t care if you want him to watch but I’m not--”

“Leona,” Vil cuts in, sharp. “How about you stop using your dick as a brain for one second, hm? If you told me you had plans, I would’ve spared it some thought--”

“ _Spared?_ ” Leona blanches.

“As it is, I’ve already made my own plans,” Vil smiles, patting Leona’s cheek as an act of consolation. “And it doesn’t involve you. Not tonight, at least.”

Leona turns away from the leather-gloved touch, inadvertently spotting Azul again which makes him click his tongue. “Tsch, so this is how it goes now? I’ve got the bigger hat here, you know.”

Azul’s scandalized expression is tinged with affront. Vil, meanwhile, appreciates the comparison. “You know I’ll be there when you get into a rut, but for now…” He waves his fingers in a little goodbye gesture.

“Forget you,” Leona huffs. To Azul, he snarls, “Think you’re damn lucky, punk? Just wait til he starts blue ballin’ you.” before he stalks off.

Vil laughs, sparkling eyes landing on Azul. “Sorry about that,” he says, though he looks far too amused to be sincere about it. “Walk with me.”

Azul’s posture straightens, intimating exactly what he’d been chosen for. “Very well.”

The spool-heeled boots add another few inches to Vil’s height, putting him a full head taller, but Azul matches his pace well. When they finally reach one of the Alchemy classrooms, Azul takes off his bowler hat and sticks it over the knocker with a spell to keep out voyeurs. The lock clicks behind them, sealing the deal.

“I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating -- I love how you do interiors.” Vil walks around, nodding his approval of the purple ambient lights and colored fog that’s somewhere in the range of aquamarine. Old vases made to look like urns and slabs of fake tombstones line the sides, complete with a rickety-looking iron fence made of cardboard -- the materials may be cheap but the end product denotes certain quality. Space is cleared in the middle of the classroom for what’s supposed to be the entrance to a crypt but is actually a fort just deep enough to hide the person designated to do jump-scares for the trick-or-treaters.

The place looks every bit an abandoned cemetery without the musty, earthy smell.

“It’s fresh pine,” Azul supplies, noticing the way Vil is sniffing at the air, the way his collar slips just a little bit lower down that pale throat. “With a hint of rosemary.”

“Mm.” Vil steps past the curtain divider and finds himself inside the workshop's storage room. A gurney is surrounded by toppled vials, lime green ooze glowing with the bright blue flames of the dark candles strategically set on the ground for an under-lit effect. Even here, the smell of pine permeates, keeping the mind alert -- escaping the ghoulish cemetery offers no reprieve, instead leading the poor souls looking for a scare right in the heart of a madman’s laboratory, ready to be turned into another one of his hell-raising minions.

Vil sweeps his cape aside and sits himself on the gurney, the metal bed cold even through the layers of his outfit. “What happened to your hat?” he asks as Azul approaches, his calm expression looking rather sinister when lit from below.

“I presumed you’d prefer some privacy.”

“You presume correct.”

“That presumption might soon change, though, considering what I had walked in on, earlier.” Azul adjusts his glasses.

“What? That thing with Leona?” Vil’s grin is positively devious. “Are you feeling jealous, Azul? You’re free to try the same approach. I might even like it.”

Azul huffs. “I’m not so shameless.”

“Then, let me tell you a little secret,” Vil hooks a finger around the ring strapped to Azul’s sternum, pulling him in without much effort. (Jade is right about that harness.) Painted lips ghost over cool skin as Vil whispers, “Jealousy doesn't suit you, Azul. I much prefer your greed.”

The kiss is fleeting, feather-light. Vil reclines further on the gurney, a very clear invitation for Azul to make his move.

“O-One thing, first.” Azul produces his smartphone from his pocket, opening its camera app. “The usual barter.”

“Very well. Come up here, then.” Vil pats the space beside him, helping Azul get into a stable position. “Point the camera from a high angle, like that, exactly. And I’ll bare my fangs just so… Where’s your other hand?”

“Here.” Slim digits bury into golden tresses, ever so slightly tilting Vil’s face up as Azul watches the phone screen. There’s a slight furrow between his brows as he concentrates on getting the shot right -- Vil, a vampire about to bite into his prey’s exposed neck, eyes sultry with carnal desire and himself, the victim, visible only from the mouth down, a frozen gasp that could be read as horrified or beguiled. Hands squeeze at Azul’s ass and he really _does_ gasp, nearly dropping his phone in surprise. “Vil!”

“Apologies, but,” Vil chuckles, holding the other teen steady by his hips. “I have a better idea.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll forego the usual curse on the photo,” Vil explains to a wary Azul. “But, in exchange, I want your face in it, too.”

“My… face?”

“Yes.”

Azul frowns, his arm that had been holding the phone aloft droops. “But why? My face--”

“Will be right next to mine. They’ll probably blur it out since you’re aren’t a public figure should this photo spread to the tabloids. You don’t even have to look at the camera. Here, let me take the shot.”

“Vil--!” The smartphone changes hands despite Azul’s protest. “I can’t-- on camera--”

“Just look at me,” Vil says, vying for his trust with a smile that’s a touch gentler than the mask he’d been wearing all night. “Only me.”

Slowly, Azul nods, repositioning his hands so that they’re draped over Vil’s shoulders as the older teen draws near. This close, the artistry of Vil’s facial features is unquestionable, even beyond the magic of make-up. With his bangs swept back, there’s nothing to hide his otherworldly beauty -- the blemish-free skin sculpted from the whitest marble, fine ears, high cheeks, amethystine gems glittering in his eyes, and those perfectly bowed lips. He’s enthralled. Aroused. Holding such unattainable beauty in his wretched hands… Azul barely registers the sound of his phone camera going off.

The feeling starts at the base of his spine, just above where Vil’s other gloved hand lies, supporting his weight. It spreads, through his blood, his nerves, his breath turns shallow when that odd sensation squeezes his lungs. It feels like he’s drowning on air. Azul realizes Vil isn’t looking at him anymore, that perfect face angled towards the side, the alluring mouth open -- red and white, black lips, white teeth, fangs, the inside of his mouth red, red, endless red.

Oh, to be devoured, to be desired.

The hands that cup Vil’s face are none-too-gentle, his half-sounded protest swallowed by an earnest kiss. It's a bit disorienting, Azul tastes like the spiced pumpkin that's been served for dessert, but Vil melts into it, nonetheless, thanking his lucky stars that he'd chosen the smear-proof lipstick to wear tonight.

Azul indulges with lingering kisses before pulling away, glasses askew. Even though he had been the one to initiate contact, even though they've done this more than a dozen times already, Azul appears terribly lost on how to proceed.

Vil hums, feeling the slight tremors running through the hands that bracket his face. "Kiss me again," he says and Azul obliges.

Careful and tender soon turn exploratory and bold. Lips and tongue and teeth. Heat. The pointed fangs are new but not unwelcome. Slick spit, split lips, they keep going. Kissing and kissing and breathing, moaning. The gurney creaks, clangs, Vil’s cape is discarded into a wrinkled heap on the floor, Azul’s back hits the metal bed.

“Sorry about the cut," Vil murmurs, gazing down at the prone form beneath him. The thin chest rises and falls with a rapid rhythm, the body harness digging into cloth, outlining taut musculature.

"Careful now." Azul has a moment of clarity. His bottom lip stings and a faint taste of blood swims with the saliva in his mouth. Or maybe he's gone right over the edge of reason and is just mumbling nonsense now. Either way, his words come out in caution. "Drinking a mermaid's blood can bind you to them for life."

"Does that scare you?" A golden strand hangs in Vil's face, eyes a-glow in the semi-darkness. 

"Not at all."

"Really."

When Vil leans down, Azul's hands follow the contour of his body, supporting the weight of him that's pressing down like a blanket. Their legs tangle together, bodies shifting, hands finding purchase. Vil noses into the junction of Azul's neck, breathing in deep, letting his teeth graze and biting lightly just to feel his pulse jump. Fists clutch the clothes off his back, keeping him close; Vil can't help but compare how a different set of hands would have torn away his costume by now. He's glad he picked Azul tonight.

Azul doesn't dare move as Vil rises, his fanged smile moving close. The tip of a gloved finger presses against the cut on his lip, drawing blood. Vil looks straight into his eyes as he licks it away, looking very much in control, and all Azul wants in that moment is for him to lose it.

Moans and gasps echo within the room, candlelight flickers as movement on top of the gurney picks up its pace. Azul's vision is blurry without his glasses but it's not like he has to look far. Vil is wrapped up all around him, bodies squeezed side by side on the limited surface. If Azul tilts his face up, he could kiss that perfect mouth, but right now he doesn't dare interrupt the symphony of its pleas and 'Yes'es. Their mutual orgasm builds, stiff cocks rubbing together, stroked feverishly by skilled hands; Vil had discarded one glove earlier, his pale hand lacing with Azul's to enclose their engorged members.

"Don't stop… I'm… yes, _yes_ , like that, _Azul--_ "

" _\--Fuck!_ "

The musky smell of ejaculate mixes with the scent of pine and rosemary and sweat and the sweet overripe fragrance of Vil's cologne.

Azul's body empties, resets, his cum spilling over as Vil's hips move faster, fucking the slick circle of their hands in his own bid for release. Azul presses his thigh up between Vil's legs to give him more leverage. Vil's response is to squeeze tighter, frotting against Azul's sensitive member, whispering praises and curses, until he finally caves. A second hot burst of semen spills between them, sticking to their hands and clothes. Vil's face is buried into curly silver hair, it's soft like seafoam, he smiles, catching his breath.

* * *

Azul removes his glasses, scrubs at his eyes, and looks again but the screen display doesn't change.

463 photos are in his phone gallery. Yesterday there were barely two hundred.

"I…"

Azul swallows, he forgets what he even opened his phone for, distracted by the sheer volume of photos and the eroticism they contain. If he scrolls through them fast enough, the photos turn into a short video clip of him and Vil making out in the storage room. He pauses on a photo that’s clearer than the rest -- their silhouettes under-lit by candles, expressions dripping with lust, kissing open-mouthed with tongue -- Azul barely recognizes himself. He must’ve been staring at his phone for too long because Idia is suddenly beside him.

“Did you find the die--aaaiiiiiiiyyyyyaaaaaah!” Idia screeches, jolting Azul from stupor.

It’s too late to hide the photo. Idia is already freaking out.

“Is that Vil? You hooked up with Vil?! _AND YOU TOOK A PHOTO?!”_

“I--” Azul licks his lips, trying and failing to come up with an explanation. Probably because Idia’s exclamation is already pretty spot on. At least there’s no one else in the room. Azul is prepared to shrug off the encounter -- he isn’t the first person to hook up with Vil on campus and he certainly won’t be the last -- but then Idia continues making (manic) sense.

“Why are you showing me this? You’ll get cursed!”

_Shit._

“I’ll get cursed!! Delete it! Send it to the shadow realm! I don’t wanna lose my hair! I don’t wanna lose a limb! Azul!!”

“Damn it, Idia, stop shouting!”

“ _You’re_ shouting!”

“Guys, what’s--?” The door opens and someone peeks in, looking concerned.

“GET OUT!” Azul and Idia scream together, scaring off the poor board game club member.

“Eek! Sorry!”

With a slam, the two of them are alone again. If they’re lucky, the guy just now would warn other people not to come in.

Azul immediately stuffs away his phone lest it triggers another freakout. Idia is already muttering about how his HP is draining from passive effects of Vil’s curse. It prompts Azul to check himself over for any numbness, any itch, anything that isn’t _normal_ … but there’s nothing. He’s perfectly whole. “Idia,” he starts, sounding very uncertain. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Ha? You -- You don’t… Oh Hades, is it an Insta-Kill?” Idia's eyes are rounded in panic. “Are you dying?”

“I’m not dying!” Azul steps away from the clammy hands reaching for him. “I’m fine! And so are you!”

“I’m…” Idia looks down at himself -- no limbs rotting off, nothing suddenly catching fire (that isn’t already on fire), no… nothing. “I’m fine!” He laughs. “Holy shit!” Gleaming eyes lock on Azul. “You must’ve been a really good lay if Vil gave you a souvenir like that.”

Azul ignores the burning in his cheeks. “Maybe the cursed photos aren’t real. Vil could have been tricking us all this time.”

“They’re totally real,” Idia suddenly looks dead-serious. “You remember the kid who turned bald last year?”

“Didn’t he just get a haircut?”

“He was cursed! His hair still hasn’t grown back as far as I know. Vil’s one nasty superboss.” After a beat, Idia adds, “You can use that pic to blackmail him.”

“You just classified him as a _superboss_.” Azul blinks. “Why would I want to trifle with that?”

Idia gets that dark look in his eyes, a scheming chuckle prefacing his next words, “You’ve got a nasty streak yourself, Azul. What do you think will happen if--”

“I think,” Azul interrupts with a polite smile. “It would be better for me to figure out how to deal with this unexpected boon myself.”

“Keeping it to yourself, more like,” Idia comments on the sly. “Maybe you actually like him.”

**Author's Note:**

> Azul (and other ppl too i guess) has quite the collection of lewd Vil photos but Vil curses them every time so they can’t be used for defamatory purposes ^^)v
> 
> this Vil has a flair for... let's say... anthropomorphic creatures / o/ / v / /o / its very sexy


End file.
